Memories of Happiness
by Simply Prettyful
Summary: Sixteen year old Jayne Lockbreak has had a rough time: she suffers from amnesia. She can only recall scraps of memories and even those aren't clear. Now, the final battle approaches and Jayne must regain her memories if she hopes to help win this war.
1. Remember?

Jayne Lockbreak actually felt sick to the core. To the wizards reading this, she is a Half-Blood... She is also a Lost Witch. A Lost Witch is when a witch (Lost Wizard for the opposite sex) has been seperated from the Wizarding World. Jayne suffered from amnesia, waking up in a Muggle Hospital, thinking momentarily that her name was Oswald the Narwal. The reason for this is simple. The Dark Lord, trying to kill her, erased her memories when the force of the spell knocked her through a wall and half way across London. She was a typical sixteen year old now. Her parents searched for her everyday and everynight. Her friends tried everything to contact her.

To Jayne, she'd been attacked by owls, almost killed by strange black wearing KKK members that seem to have come over to England and hullucinated quite a bit. And yet... she thought this was normal. As if she knew about these things in the coldest, most hard to reach part of her. The part that, whenever she reached for it, slipped away from her grasp. It would visit her dreams. Oh, she loved her dreams. A pair of strong, well tones arms... A smile that could melt through the coldest of hearts... The sound of shared laughter...

Jayne watched as the cars went by. The nurses had found her a near-by apartment to live in until she could find her own place to live. She sat in the window, her head bandaged and pressed lightly against the cold glass. She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to remember anything at all. The room she sat in was bare, almost. The floorboards were unpolished wood and splattered with many colours and varieties of paint. The walls were a pleasant red colour. Jayne found it comforting... without knowing why. An old armchair faced the windows and stood beside an ancient sofa that faced a television. Jayne found the television strange. Like she'd never seen one before. She'd learned to turn it on and almost jumped out of her skin when sound poured out of the speakers and pictures on the screen moved about.

There were other things she'd thought of as new and odd. Like a microwave... she'd nearly blown it up with a fork. She discovered that, when she pulled the searing hot metal fork from the small microwave oven, while she felt the heat radiating from it, it didn't burn her flesh. Cooking the actual food seemed like a matter that could be resolved very easily by someone... or something else.

A knock at the door signalled Jayne to open her eyes and notice how dark it was out the window. She'd fallen asleep. The clock on the wall read five minutes past midnight. Who would be calling at this hour?

"Hello?" a female voice, scratching upon an old memory of Jayne's violently. "Jayne? Are you there? The hospital gave me your address."

"Wh-who's there?" Jayne squeaked, scared out of her mind.

"It's me, Hermione. You're friend?" the voice told her.

Her head hurt. The name Hermione was very familiar... far too familiar to not be anything but coincidence. She passed a window as she padded to the bolted door from the window. She looked through the peep hole and found a rounded image of a young woman of sixteen with brown-ish blonde, frizzy hair and honeyed brown eyes. She looked directly at the peep hole. Jayne, deciding she had nothing to lose anyway, unshackled the bolts on the door and opened it gingerly.

"Hi," was all she could say.

"Hello, Jayne. How've you been?" Hermione asked as she entered the room. "Everyone's been loooking for you. The Death Eaters, your family, which includes Cathrina, and all of your friends."

"Death Eaters? Cathrina? Who're they?" Jayne asked, scared.

Hermione's facial expression changed. She looked troubled.

"Jayne... What did the hospital diagnose?" Hermione asked slowly.

"Amnesia," Jayne answered backing from the girl.

Hermione's eyes darkened. Her hands went to her pockets and she strolled to the window and opened it.

"Woah, woah! What are you doing?" Jayne demanded at her side instantly.

"Just calling a friend to come up here," Hermione answered in a calm tone. "Don't worry."

"Who's your friend?" Jayne inquired, nervous. She began to play with her fingers on her right hand.

Hermione's head disappeared out of the window. "George? You there? Come up here, will you?"

"Who's George?" Jayne gulped, shaking slightly. That name bothered her too much. Something about it...

And then Jayne got the shock of her life. A boy riding a broomstick hovered by the window and quickly hopped inside. He rested the wooden handle of the broom against the wall beside the window, the curved twigs at the bottom bending slightly to support the weight. of the handle. The boy was familiar. Scarily familiar. He had the cutest curve in his ginger hair and his eyes were a deep brown. His arms, whilst hiden underneath a blue jumper with a huge golden G on the chest, were obviously strong. He saw her and broke into a relieved smile. He rushed up to her and held her in his arms as if he would never let go.

"Jayne!" he exclaimed. His voice was soothing. His arms were toned and... like the dream.

"Who're you?" Jayne asked confused. She looked at Hermione who frowned.

George drew back and looked at her face. "You don't..." He drew a breathe. "Hermione?"

"Amnesia. She's lost her memories," Hermione answered, her voice shaking. George looked stunned.

"So she's forgotten everything? Hogwarts? Magic? Me?" George asked quietly.

Hermione nodded. George breathed slowly, bringing Jayne to his chest. Her arms felt like lead and she tasted strawberries as her cheek came to rest in the crook of his neck. She could feel his heart beat next to her own. She felt... something. She didn't know what it was.

"We could take her home. Maybe Cathrina or Mrs Lockbreak could jog her memories," Hermione suggested, her tone hopeless.

George took out a polished stick from his pocket and offered it to Jayne. "It's your wand. I found it when we went looking for you."

"Thanks," Jayne said, unsure of the events. Manners and politeness stopped her from running and jumping from the window, claiming herself to be insane. George scooped her up into his arms. She felt his muscles around him and instantly her breath quickened. Her face wiped of all but a simple blush. George grinned at her.

"The same as ever. We're going to take you to a place where you can find your memories," George explained. His grip on her tightened. His one hand had her shoulder and his other on her theigh, keeping her balanced as he carried her. "Grab my broom, Hermione, and meet us back home."

And Jayne heard a crack before the feeling of travelling without moving took hold. She felt inside out, upside down and opposite. And then the swirling wreck was finished. She blinked and saw a huge house of many levels. It had that down to earth, homely feel to it and Jayne didn't feel scared at all. For the first time since she awoke in hospital, she felt at home.

"Where are we?" Jayne whispered, staring up at the buildings high roof.

"The Burrow. I grew up here, you spent the last few Christmas holidays there," George replied, begining to walk towards the house. He breathed easily and Jayne sighed unitentionally. How did this feel so natural? She was in the arms of a complete stranger! She felt so comfortable that when George kicked open the front doo of the house, she had nestled in the crooks of his arms and neck.

Almost at once, a wand was pointed at them, a ginger woman with a motherly atmosphere around her had a look of suspicion.

"Mum. It's me," George sighed.

"What's Jayne's middle name?" the woman asked monotonously. Her hair was a mix of grey and ginger. It was obvious she'd had a few children by the size of her.

"Taisie," George answered automatically.

Jayne looked confused. "My middle name is Taisie?"

The woman looked highly suspicious at that point towards Jayne. Jayne bit her lip and immeadiately looked down. She felt almost ashamed.

"S'rry," she muttered to the floor.

"She has amnesia, Mum," George told her. The woman's face fell and she rushed back. Clanging could be heard and the a young man with black hair that stuck up in the most inconveniant places, green eyes that hid under spectacles and a look of pure disbelief on his face.

"Jayne?" he asked. He looked to George just as Hermione came through the door behind them. "She has amnesia?"

"That's what Hermione and the Muggles think," George replied.

"You know, I can walk," Jayne said, kicking her feet down from George's arms. She almost fell over. "Damn it. Dead legs," she added as she almost fell over.

The people in the room gasped.

Jayne looked around, confused. "What?"

"They're looking at me," came a voice she knew from somewhere in her life. She turned and found a boy behind with an unearthly glow around him. He had soft brown hair with brilliant blue eyes. She knew his name.

"Perry," she breathed.

"That's me," Perry said, cracking a crooked smile.


	2. Taking Steps At A Time

_A laugh... a scowl... a word._

_"Horcrux."_

_And blackness decended upon her memory._

Jayne opened her eyes, confused. She sat up.

"She's awake now, Mum. You don't need the water," came the voice of George Weasley.

"What just happened?" Jayne asked, rubbing her eyes.

"You sort of went blank," Perry said, coming into her line of vision. He tapped her shoulder before rubbing it in a brotherly fashion. "Remembering things?"

"What's a horcrux?" she asked, curious.

"I wouldn't know, Dear, but my husband might. You can ask him when he gets home from work," Mrs Wealsey told her and carried on with whatever chores she was trying to do at that time.

"A horcrux?" Hermione asked, shot blank. "Even I have no idea."

Perry grinned, chuckling softly. "Finally! Something she doesn't know!"

"Hey!" Hermione shot back, looking hurt.

x-x-x-x-x

_The night was silent... Jayne felt as though she'd breathed her last breath... She had a feeling that nothing would ever be the same... And then He hit her with such force that she flew through a wall and free like a bird... Her vision went black as she fell across the bright city skyline... Her hearing disconnected and she was left alone in a land in which she was destined to be in forever..._

Jayne shot upright, sweating like a pig and breathing like the Big Bad Wolf from Little Red Riding Hood. The dark room was a world of black and grey. A bed and two matresses, one of which she lay upon in wearing a silk, light lilac coloured night dress, were crammed into the small bedroom of Ginny Weasley. On the bed, Ginny herself slept, her ginger hai tied up in a messy bun as she tossed and turned, muttering gibberish everynow and then quietly. Hermione had fallen asleep reading. Her legs underneath the covers and her chest underneath a big book. Jayne swung her legs from the matress amd stood up, taking hold of the nightgown that, like her nightdress, had been given to her by Mrs Weasley because they were too big for ginny in length and to skinny for her in width. She kicked on an old pair of Ginny's slippers (Ginny had willingly given them to her, claiming, "They look better on you anyway.") and walked out of the door. She closed the door quietly behind her and crept down the stairs to the ground floor of the giant house. She'd been there, at the homely house named The Burrow, for a week. She'd done chores, played Wizard Chess andtried everything to regain her memories.

Amnesia is a bitch. That's what she'd decided as she stalked into the dark siting room. There was a shadow on the squishy sofa. That shadow murmured her name.

"Jayne..." George repeated in his slumber.

Jayne felt all the breath in her leave at once. Her heart could have stopped. She definately had strong feelings for George... but what they were- they were still a mystery to her. A whole new world had taken her in. Her world had found her once again and was trying to bring back the Jayne tat they knew. George was a part of her, she knew that much. As much a part of her as her soul and spirit.

"I'm here," she heard herself whisper as she walked towards him. She crouched down and looked at him. He looked so peaceful, so amazingly wonderful in the single shaft of moonlight that shone through a gap in the curtains of the room. She leant her head in and whispered in his ear. "Wake up, Pilock."

And he did. His brown eyes were startling in the silvery light. His eyes expanded as he swa her there in front of him, her green eyes taking in his face. His mouth opened slightly and she sat up.

"Jayne?" he asked groggily, his arms flexing as he scratched behind his ear. "What're you doing up?"

"I... had a nightmare," Jayne replied, her voice surprisingly soft. "I didn't know you'd be down here."

"I couldn't sleep up there," George replied as he stretched his arms behind him. "Couldn't shake that feeling of fatigue."

Jayne sat on the sofa and closed her eyes, letting herself off guard as she breathed in the stale air. She was about to open her eyes when George touched her arm.

"What's wrong?" George asked.

"I think I saw a memory... in my dream..." Jayne replied uneasily.

George took her hand and waited for her words to tumble out. And sure as the sun rises in the morning, she let it out.

"I remember being in a dark space lit by candles that never flickered. I remember a face... A white face with red snake eyes, hardly any nose and no hair. It was like a personification of pure evil," Jayne recounted, shivering. Her brown hair shook with her, touching her shoulders. It had become wavy since she started her stay with the Weasley family. Apparently, it always did this. "He had this air about him... like death followed him where ever he went. I can't remember what, but we were talking about something... Something important to everything. And then, we went into a full on duel. He knocked me through a wall and that's when I began to lose conciousness. I finally blacked out over the skyline."

"That's terrible," George commented monotonously. Jayne looked at his face, one eye open. Disappointment stretched far into his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said, closing her eye again. "I still can't remember anything to do with you. Or anyone here."

George looked down. Jayne bit her bottom lip anxiously.

"But..." she started. George looked up hopefully. She breathed in deeply. She opened her eyes and looked at him. She looked him dead in the eyes. "I definately have strong feelings towards you... I just don't know what they are yet."

George smiled. "You used to come with me to the orchard on nights like this. When neither of us could sleep and the night was silent. But now it's just too dangerous."

"What's your best memory with me?" Jayne asked, looking through the shaft of moonlight and out into the night.

"Once, we were walking down Diagon Alley, laughing about something I said," George recalled, fondness obvious in his voice.

"That sounds nice..." Jayne commented, resting her head on his shoulder.

"And then it began to rain. We should have seen it coming really. The sky was filled with rain clouds for days," George grinned. "But we kept going. You took my hand and, laughing, we ran further along the street. And suddenly... you stopped, twisting to face me. You smiled so nicely that... I kissed you that day. In the pouring rain..."

His voice had sounded distant.

"We had a relationship?" Jayne asked softly, looking up to him. In profile, she could still see the tears well in his eyes then spill silently down his face. She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him. "George?"

"Yeah?" George replied, his voice shaking.

"Don't ever leave me," Jayne commanded and kissed his cheek. She rested her head on his legs and closed her eyes, falling asleep in the shaft of moonlight.

x-x-x-x-x

Jayne awoke when the sun touched her face. She sat up, rubbing her eyes tiredly. She heard soft breathing and turned her head to find a sleeping George Weasley. His arm was still around her waist as she sat up straight and so she needed to remove it in order to stand up. She moved to the kitchen and sat down before the window and watched as the house came to life. Within minutes, Mrs Weasley was in the kitchen, eyes shining at the new day.

"Hello, dear. Sleep well?" Mrs Wealsey asked.

"Not really but George helped me through it. He's asleep in the living room," Jayne replied, her voice slightly croaking. She cleared it and sighed.

"Ah, well, he's good at listening," Mrs Weasley beamed. "Cup of coffee? Eggs and bacon? Toast? Porridge?"

Jayne smiled at the offer. "Eggs and bacon sounds delicious."

"Well, then I'd better get cooking," Mrs Weasley grinned and turned to find the ingrediants from her pantry.

Jayne took a deep breath. "Uh, Mrs Weasley... did I have some kind of... romantic relationship with George?"

Mrs Weasley stopped. She turned around, her face rigid.

"It's just... I feel so at ease with him around... Almost like I want to be with him..." Jayne explained. "And last night... he told me about his favorite memory with me."

Mrs Weasley's face softened. "I can't tell you that, Jayne dear. You'll need to find out for yourself."

At which point, Harry came yawning down the stairs. "Good morning, Mrs Wealsey, Jayne."

"Morning, Harry," Mrs Weasley replied, smiling motherly at him. "Eggs and bacon?"

"Yes please," Harry yawned and sat beside Jayne. "You OK, Jayne? You look a bit pale."

"Do I?" Jayne asked absently, looking at the door that led to the living room and the sleeping George Weasley.

x-x-x-x-x

George was a strange topic to her. Jayne sat beside Ginny and Hermione in the orchard as the boys played Quidditch.

"It's odd. I know when they score and how many points they get for it," Jayne mused as Ron failed to bloack the old Muggle football they used for a Quaffle in the game of Quidditch. Fred scored and high fived his twin brother as they flew by each other. "And yet, I need to learn peoples names all over again..."

"That's life for you," Hermione laughed sarcastically. "One day, you're snogging the love of your life, the next, you have amnesia."

Jayne looked shocked at Hermione.

"Don't tell me you haven't guessed," said a sun-bathing Ginny from Jayne's left.

"You mean that awful nagging feeling that something happened between George and I?" Jayne asked, slightly amused.

"So she has guessed, then," Hermione commented, closing her eyes as she retreived a book from her bag which sat behind her against the tree they were leaning against. She flipped it open to a floral bookmark with the words 'I Break For Educational Experiences In Magic!' printed on it boldly.

Jayne's grass green eyes flashed at Hermione. "Tell me. Please."

"OK. You and George were going out before the amnesia," Ginny told her. "Simple."

Jayne felt something in her stomach. The boys landed, Harry having caught the walnut they'd enchanted to fly. Jayne stood to walk back to the house but she felt a wave of dizziness. She stopped, her body shivering and her hand on her forehead. Her eyes closed, pained. FInally, she saw flashes. George smiling... George laughing... George sad... George leaning in... George kissing her in the rain at Diagon Alley...

She felt a hand on her arm. She opened her eyes, realising she had been crying. George stood in front of her, worry evident on his face.

"You OK?" he asked gently. Jayne nodded and hugged him suddenly. She cried into his shoulder. George soothed her as the others walked on, not wanting to ruin this moment for them. "It's OK. I'll take care of you."

"I..." she gulped, tears choking her. "Ginny... told me about... about us. It... Flashes of memories... I'm so sorry..."

She felt George lift her up like she was a young baby, like he did when they'd arrived at The Burrow a week before. But this time he didn't carry her into the house. This time he took her and sat her down underneath a tree where she cried until she could no longer.

"It's OK. Right now, your health is more important to me than a relationship," George told her. "We'll think about that later on..."

The sun set before they went back inside.


	3. Oh, What A Wonderful Train Ride!

_He caught hold of her hand. "What did that cow do to you?"_

_Jayne sighed and took her hand back, not daring to look up to him._

_"Detention," she muttered. All she wanted was to go to bed. Instead she had to run into him. He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. His eyes trained on hers._

_"She won't do this when we're through with her," George promised and kissed her cheek._

_The words burned on her hand, as if they were a trophy... The trophy of 'punishment'. __**I Must Not Set Furniture Alight**_**.**

Jayne sighed at the memory of the dream. She looked at her hand and there it was. The exact sentance she'd dreamt about. 'I Must Not Set Furniture Alight'. Maybe her dreams were helping her to remember but these memoies are broken and disjointed. Like she was when she dreamt them. She was to go for her sixth year the next day. Her headmaster had sent her the books, three new sets of uniform and potion ingrediants. George had seemed disappointed to hear she would be going to school for the year.

She was alone, inside the shadows of the orchard. She didn't know what trees they were but they had little pinky-white flowers sprouted from the branches, ready to bloom autumn fruits. The sun was close to setting, streaking the sky with pink light. An old rhyme emerged from her lips.

"Red sky at night, sorcerors sleep tight," she sighed.

"The Muggle version is similar," Harry Potter smiled at her. He came from behind, but he hadn't startled her in the slightest. He continued, "Red sky at night, shepards delight. Or it could be sailors. There are two versions for Muggles, see."

"Is school good?" Jayne asked, changing the subject, her voice wistful.

"It's... full of adventure and weird things. Weird things purchased by Hagrid- he's the keeper of keys and griounds at Hogwarts," Harry explained. "In first year, you kept his three headed dog, Fluffy, asleep by singing. You weren't very good back then-"

Jayne punched his arm. Harry winced but grit his teeth.

"- but had a strong punch! Ow!" he moaned. "Anyway, you got better as the years went by. You're an amazing singer."

"Second year?"

"You blasted the man-eating spiders whilst we tried to escape the forest in Mr Weasley's flying car," Harry explained. "But you got paralysed by the basilisk a few days later. And in third, you were kidnapped by Sirius Black. We thought you were dead but you'd actually befriended him and was using yourself as bait to get me to go and meet him. We got to you in time and you cursed Professor Lupin when he changed into his werewolf form to slow him down as we tried to run away."

"Brave of me," she murmured to herself.

"Yeah, it was," Harry agreed. "In fourth year... Well, you started to go out with Draco Malfoy."

Jayne blinked. "Who?"

"My arch-rival... before you found some decency in him, that is," Harry explained. "He's going out with your cousin now."

"Are they happy?" Jayne asked, closing her eyes. Imagining a pair of happy smiles dancing in the darkness.

"Yeah. Until you went missing," Harry shrugged. "In fourth year, you pretended to hate eachother so you went to the Yule Ball with George instead. I was in this tournament, see, and I almost got killed in it because one of the teachers was actually a Death Eater using a Polyjuice Potion to disguise themselves to get close to me."

"Fifth year?" Jayne asked, listening intently.

"Ah, now fifth year was fun. Ish. This horrible woman called Umbridge was the Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher," Harry smiled. "She was cruel and racist, you know. Hated 'half-breeds' as she called us. You and me were her favorite targets because we had Muggle blood 'spoiling our rich and healthy pure-blood'. She wouldn't let us use magic. So Hermione and yourself devised a plan. I'd teach those willing to be taught under me. Umbridge fund out though. She gave us all detentions. We've still got the scars on our hands. Look. Mine says 'I shall not tell lies.'"

"'I must not set furniture alight. I had a dream about the scars last night," Jayne nodded. She held up her scarred hand.

"That was an accident. Ron accidentally made you angry by insulting you repeatedly," Harry shrugged. "It was necessary."

"Why?" Jayne asked, slightly annoyed, yet she was curious about the whole thing.

"We needed to get you angry so you would finally do the spell properly," Harry answered.

"Was I that bad at magic?" Jayne asked,biting her lip.

"No. But you needed to be properly angry for this one," Harry chuckled. Unsure of what he meant, she decided she wouldn't press for more information.

x-x-x-x-x

_She saw him... his grey eyes and his blonde hair. He was amazing... and she was with him. Cathrina, blonde as ever with her her greeny-blue eyes trained on his mouth and her arms wrapped around him. The worst part... he smiled at her like he used to to Jayne. And yet... Jayne felt relieved._

Her eyes opened softly, the dream settling as she remembered back to it.

"Cathy's gonna freak," she whispered, surprising herself by calling Cathrina by a nickname. Almost at once, memories from her childhood flooded back to her, and with them her memories of her family. She was lying across the seats of the compartment she, Harry and Neville Longbottom were sharing with Ginny and Luna Lovegood.

"You remember Cathrina?" Ginny asked, rubbing her eyes and yawning. "Sorry. Seeing you sleep mae me sleepy."

Jayne shrugged and satup, looking out of the window. She smiled as an idea sprouted in her mind. She grinned at Harry.

"Want to go scare my cousin?" she asked. She noticed a thick green slab of slime across everything. "After you tell me what happened."

"Neville did it!" Harry declared like a little kid, pointing his finger and tilting his head up as if he was trying to make his point bigger.

"All I did was poke my _mimbulus mimbletonia_!" Neville protested.

"Ew!" Jayne grimaced. "I can't imagine the surprise the girls got when you pulled it out!"

"_Mimbulus mimbletonia_ is a rare wizarding plant," Neville explained, showing her the plant that resembed a pulsating, diseased organ with it's movement and looked rather unattractive anyway.

Jayne pulled out her wand, looking at the mess and tutting. "_Scourgify_."

The spell came out of nowhere. And it did a great job of cleaning up, leaving the windows sparkling. Strive for perfection. Apparently, Cathrina had told her to do this once when they were five. Speaking of Cathrina, Jayne had now dragged Harry out of the compartment, underneath Harry's invisability cloak. Walking past Ron and Hermione, who were returning from the Prefects Meeting, they made sure to be silent. Harry led the way, pointing to Jayne the compartment in which they watched as Cathrina, somehow alone with Draco, kissed and canoodled. There was no trace of worry about the girl in the compartment. Harry slid it open, Jayne and he slipping inside before Draco leaned forward to close it. The sat down opposite the pair and watched for a minute as they continued to do so. Finally, Jayne could take no more.

"Ew!" she yelled.

Cathrina, her blonde hair flinging over her shoulder looked around, confused. "Jayne?"

"That's right. It is I! The great Jayne Taisie Lockbreak!" Jayne laughed. She gripped the material momentarily. "I'm a ghost."

"No you're not!" came the voice of Perry as he walked in and sat beside the invisable Jayne. "Hi, Cathrina."

"Perry!" Cathrina spluttered. Her expression angered, turning a shade of red. "Where have you been for the past few weeks? And where's Jayne?"

Draco sighed and pointed beside Perry. Grinning, Jayne and Harry threw the invisability cloak from themselves and laughed at the faces Cathrina made. Confused, angry, relieved, upset and happy. All emotions listed within three seconds. Jayne laughed harder.

"Look, I've got amnesia," Jayne said once she'd calmed down. Cathrina's face softened and her usual sarcastic tone and face came back to her all at once.

"Aw, Diddums! What did you do? Crash into a person on the street?" Cathrina said, her eyes showing how plainly bored with Jayne.

"Nope. Just a wall then I flew like a bird over London and landed someplace before waking up in a Muggle hospital," Jayne replied with a shrug. "But nice guess."

"Are you serious?"

"No. He's dead, now, right?" she looked to Harry. Harry nodded. He looked at the floor.

"I have to go now. Jayne, you should come too. Ron'll eat all the pumkin pasties id you don't," Harry sighed, getting up solemnly.

"Nice," Jayne muttered.

x-x-x-x-x

**A/N: Next chapter shall be from George's point of view. I'm telling you this now so you won't get confused.**


End file.
